The OHT trail system is 218 miles long and growing. Contrary to what the OHT people say, not all of it is wonderful. It is 8 o'clock in the morning and I am about to embark on eight miles of unredeeming arduousness called Hare Mountain. The poison ivy has completely overgrown the trail and is wet with morning dew. A hundred yards into the hike and both feet are already soaked. I'll at least run the clear sections. No I won't because I keep twisting my ankles walking through the brush. I don't know how many twistings they can take in a day. Finally, a flat rock where I can check myself for ticks. Just three. Look, a friend on my shoe!
Just noticed the view of Hwy 23 where my car is parked. I wonder if the people stopping on that senic overlook can see me here.
This must be the old homesite mentioned in Tim Ernst's book.
There's supposed to be a well around here somewhere. Oh, here it is.
This campsite is worth a picture. I like the stone chairs. I'll just back up into this grass so I can get it all . . . Oh, another friend!
I'll just find a different angle.
I better get moving. Should be several miles of downhill into a dirt road. Here's a clearing. Pack off, shirt off, I'm checking everywhere: Pits, balls, crack, taint. Looks good, no ticks. What a slog. Must be the warm spring. I had no idea conditions would be this bad. I could bail at Redding. Maybe bushwhack Herrod's to the road. That would be an adventure! All I know is there's no way in hell I'm going back over Hare Mountain.